“My dear girl,” he said, in a tone of patient reasonableness, “you are a mere child. McClintock never threw away any advertising matter; in fact, he openly courted pamphlets; and they came from automobile dealers and great mail-order houses, from haberdashers and tailors and manufacturers of hair-tonics, razors, gloves, shoes, open plumbing. Melusine came close again, and reached up a finger tentatively to the face depicted there. I’m right again now. Having heard from Thames that you were better, and that your sole anxiety was about me, I came to give you the first intelligence of my escape.
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